


colours dull, candles dim

by doublej (ryliner)



Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M, did the tags give away who i am, i am jjp trash, im jjp trash, jackson centric POV, merry xmas, the markson is so undeveloped but if you squint it's THERE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-23 14:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17082194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryliner/pseuds/doublej
Summary: Christmas, Jackson thought, was maybe salvageable after all.(prompt: all flights are grounded because of snow and ot7 have to spend christmas together instead of going home, maybe there are ships maybe there aren't, can be AU or idolverse, very flexible)





	colours dull, candles dim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notionally](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/gifts).



> For Ally! Merry Birthday and Happy Christmas. You deserve the world, but I could only give you this ♡

Jackson hated that he was in a bad mood. He usually loved Christmas, liked everything there was about the season, the cold weather and the woollen sweaters, the endless mugs of tea and the colourful decorations, the Santa hats and how cheerful everybody seemed to be, he liked the movies, much to Jooheon’s dismay, and the Church sing-along services, the snow, the gifts.

Christmas was probably Jackson’s favourite time of year just as much as it was Mark’s — it had been one of their original bonding points — and it was really annoying that they were both too busy feeling sorry for themselves the day before Christmas Eve to really enjoy it like they usually did.

“So,” Mark sighed. They were sitting in the library at the back where the shelves were mostly abandoned, drinking milk tea even though it was cold and snowing outside and Jackson was shivering despite the heater. “We’re not getting home anytime soon for Christmas.”

“I know,” Jackson told him, elbows on his knees and still upset. His mum hadn’t stopped texting him since he told her his flight had been cancelled due to worsening weather conditions. “First time in twenty-two years.”

“No home-cooked meal,” Mark said, sadly. He let his head fall back to rest against an old row of Encyclopedias, scrunching his nose up when dust flew. “This fucking _sucks_.”  

“I know,” Jackson repeated, not in a decent enough mood to talk, and Mark made a disgruntled noise at that. It wasn’t often that Mark spoke more than he did, but Jackson was a sulker. They sank into a dispirited silence for a while after that, the quiet more familiar than Mark chattering away, until Mark’s phone vibrated five minutes later and his expression brightened slightly.

“Hey,” he said. “You want to come over for a while? Jaebum’s driving nearby, and he said he could pick us up from here.”

“I don’t know,” Jackson started. He knew that Mark and Jaebum had lived together since first year, but he didn’t want to burden them by being sad, just wanted to go home and mope, stare at the wall until he felt okay again. “I need to — feed my fish.”

“Shut up,” Mark slanted a glance at him, mouth twitching. “I know you don’t have fish. Come on man, I’ve got Netflix and shit — we could binge Christmas movies and cry about it or something just as sad until we both feel a little less homesick.”

Jackson’s roommate, Amber, was already home for the holidays. She, unlike Jackson, was smart, and didn’t wait until the absolute last second when flights were likely to be _cancelled_ to fly back. Without her, the apartment would be depressingly empty. He considered Mark’s hopeful, rounded eyes for a moment and then, feeling warm that Mark had even asked him to come over, said, “Yeah, sure. Why not.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mark’s mouth tugged into a huge smile, like he was some kind of _puppy_. “We should get going then. Jaebum’s almost here.”

Jackson scrambled to his feet to follow as Mark shot off, slightly off-balance after sitting on the floor for so long, and touched Mark’s arm as he caught up to him. “I,” he said. “I’m just letting you know that I’m not as close to Jaebum-hyung as you think I am. Actually,” Jackson paused. He’d only met Jaebum a few times after all, forced together at parties and so embarrassingly one-sided in their friendship that it almost hurt. “I think he might kind of hate me.”

“You’re really formal when you’re sad,” Mark stared at him as they walked, expression unreadable. “Jaebum doesn’t hate you. He actually really likes you — he just makes you do the honorifics thing because he’s kinky like that.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Jackson looked away, not knowing how to handle the fact that he wasn’t the one making dirty jokes.

Mark bumped his shoulder against Jackson’s as they descended the stairs together, smiling quick and bright when Jackson met his gaze for a split second. “I call shotgun,” he said, but he didn’t actually let Jackson sit alone in the backseat of Jaebum’s car when Jaebum pulled up. “Hey man, thanks for picking us up. You’re a legend.”

“Literally shut up,” Jaebum bit back, his eyes glued to his phone. “You pulled rank on me. You’re talking as if I offered.”

Mark caught Jackson’s eye and mouthed what looked like _kinky_ as Jaebum cleared his throat and turned down the music snootily.

“Hi, hyung,” Jackson murmured, trying not to sound like he’d nearly cried half an hour ago realising he wouldn’t see his parents for Christmas. “Thanks for the lift.”

“Okay,” Jaebum said, turning onto the main road. He sounded less angry than usual, almost friendly, and he caught Jackson’s eye in the rearview mirror. “No problem.”

Mark flashed Jackson a quick grin and whispered, “I told you he didn’t hate you,” to which Jackson just felt like a little kid again hanging around with the popular kids, looked out the window instead of meeting Mark’s warm gaze. He wished he were home and not stuck in Korea because of bad weather, but he supposed it wasn’t _so_ bad - not everyone got to see Mark Tuan smile like that, and that thought alone was enough to make Jackson feel warm for the rest of the car ride.  

—

Jackson had been to Mark and Jaebum’s apartment before, five, maybe six times, and it was as lavish-looking as it was the last time he was here, tall and with a lobby that had its own Christmas tree, empty presents underneath as decoration. Jaebum ambled ahead to get the door open while Mark lagged behind and chatted easily to Jackson, their shoulders brushing with each step.

“Jaebummie’s not going back for Christmas,” Mark told him, though Jackson was only half-listening, watching the stiff line of Jaebum’s shoulders as he keyed in the passcode. Mark laughed when he got it wrong twice. “But he’s lucky he’s got Jinyoungie to keep him company this year, and me apparently. Otherwise he’d probably just be off by himself in some bar— ”

“Shut up,” Jaebum said, though he wasn’t indignant like Jackson expected.

He smiled quick over his shoulder, and then pushed open the door to a scowling, pointy looking boy, who would probably give Lee Hongbin a run for his money in terms of general prettiness. They’d never met properly before, but Jackson knew who it was right away. Park Jinyoung was kind of really unmistakable.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung said, “Care to tell me why you’ve been moving my shit around again? I can’t find _anything_.”

“What did I do?” Jaebum asked, sounding softer than Jackson had ever heard before. He’d lost the heat behind his words, setting his car keys down in a key bowl by the door, stepping forward to accept the grudging kiss that Jinyoung pressed to his cheek. “This is Jackson, by the way. He’s a friend.”

“Hi,” Jinyoung said briefly, and then turned back to Jaebum, eyebrows furrowed. “My _sweater_ , hyung. I left it on the couch last night and I want it now but I can’t find it anywhere and you _moved_ it.”

Jackson couldn’t imagine anyone ever talking to Jaebum like that and getting away with it, but Jaebum’s smile didn’t waver once.

“Ah,” he said, shouldering past Jinyoung. Jackson followed a little awkwardly, had never been around with Jinyoung in the apartment, too. He copied Mark and left his bag in the hallway by the door, padding after Jaebum as the four of them walked into a bright, surprisingly neat living room, huge with a TV already turned onto some colourful variety show, a Christmas tree tucked into the corner with a printed picture of Jaebum’s face on it instead of a star on top. "You mean the sweater you wore without washing for a week straight which you left under a pile of notes and dirty dishes," Jaebum continued. "I put it in the wash, and then I folded it up into the drawer."

Jinyoung opened his mouth, still looking cross, but then he snapped it shut and stalked out of the room. He came back a minute later, drowning in a sweater that looked to be three sizes too big.

"Thanks," he said, and turned his face up so Jaebum could move in and kiss him properly, light and with a hand at his hip. Jackson had to keep himself from staring — not because he found it weird but because it was surprising, somewhat, to see Jaebum so relaxed, and open, and  _smiling_ , when normally he was more gruff and aloof and frowned a lot.

“They’re cute,” Mark commented, looking fond. “But really gross, nonetheless. Come on,” he slipped an arm around Jackson’s shoulders, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. “I’m sure there’s some beer in the fridge if Jinyoungie hasn’t already drank it all by himself.”

“I heard that,” Jinyoung said, but he looked too caught up in Jaebum to properly retaliate. Mark slanted a knowing glance at Jackson, mouth twitching, and Jackson nearly laughed.

—

The fridge was fuller than Jackson would’ve thought; there was actual food neatly packed away into the different compartments and not just different boxes of take-out that could be found in Jackson and Amber’s own fridge, but Mark shoved everything aside in favour of the six-pack of beer pushed towards the back of the cooler, opened and with three Asahis left.

“Nice,” Jackson said, when Mark handed him one.

“So,” Mark said, shutting the fridge door, leaning against the marble countertop, and Jackson didn’t even feel out of place, standing next to him. He really liked Mark, he thought, and it was a bit of a surprise that Mark seemed to like him, too — enough, at least, to invite him over the day before Christmas Eve. “I’m sorry you had to see Jaebum shove his tongue down Jinyoung’s throat like that. They don’t exactly like to behave.”

“Oh,” Jackson said, amused. “I didn’t even know they were dating.”

Mark shook his head and looked away. “They’re not really,” he said, sounding annoyed enough that Jackson figured there was something more to it. “They should be, I guess.”

“How come?” Jackson asked, blinking.

“How come they’re not dating or how come they should be?”

“Both,” he said, watching as Mark’s expression flickered but quickly smoothed over again. “I always kind of thought that Jaebum-hyung was straight, to be honest. Like,” he added, “ _really_ straight.”

Mark looked at him with a crooked grin like he found that funny. “It’s just always been unnecessarily complicated with them,” he explained slowly, waving a hand around. He hesitated for a moment and then continued, “It was pretty weird for a while, I guess. I hooked up with Jinyoungie at some party two years ago and then he met Jaebum for the first time on his way out of our apartment.”

Jackson stared. “Jaebum-hyung is dating your one-night-stand?”

“I guess, maybe, that’s why they’re _not_ dating,” Mark admitted, curling and uncurling his fingers from around the neck of his beer. “I mean, they kiss all the fucking time and whatever, but. I told you — it’s all just unnecessarily complicated. Jinyoung’s practically been living out of Jaebum’s room ever since then, and Jaebum still — ” Mark trailed off, uncertain. “He’s just — “

“I know,” Jackson said, nodding, wondered why Mark was telling him all this. “I get it. He can’t let it go.”

“Exactly,” Mark turned a bit red. “And I do try to let him know how stupid he’s being at least once a day, at least. Come on,” he shook his head, laughed a little. “Let’s go,” and then Mark shot off before Jackson could even say anything, leading them through the hall and into his bedroom, which, was much cleaner than when Jackson was here last month during a house party and he’d found Hoseok on the floor with his hand down Changkyun’s pants.

There were, however, two boys sitting on the bed with a laptop between them, sharing half a side of earphones each and looking up when Jackson walked in behind Mark and Jackson couldn’t help but think that this was just getting weirder and weirder.

“Oh,” Mark said, apparently unbothered. “Hi. Who said you could touch my laptop?”

The skinny-looking boy who was all angles tilted his head. He looked vaguely familiar, though Jackson couldn’t remember where he’d seen him before. “Who’s this?” he asked, ignoring Mark’s question completely, staring straight past him at Jackson, who tried not to shrink in on himself. “He’s handsome, hyung.”

“Thank you. I’m Jackson,” Jackson said, before Mark could introduce him. He suddenly realised where he knew this kid from. “You’re Bambam, right? I’ve seen you at some of the Global Student meetings. And you’re,” he turned onto the other boy, who met his gaze evenly. Jackson faltered. “I don’t know who you are.”

“This is Yugyeom; Yugyeom, Jackson, etc. He’s a hyung,” Mark said to the two of them, making towards his desk and sinking into the gaming chair in front of his computer. He cast a look back at Jackson. “Sorry — they were just about to leave.”

“What?” Bambam said. He sounded annoyed, and Jackson guessed that this was routine. “But we’re watching a movie!”

“Black Panther,” Yugyeom chimed in, dryly. “Again. Please save me, hyung. This is the fourth time this month.”

“Fuck you, you love Black Panther,” Bambam said, instantly turning back to Mark, leaving no room for argument as Yugyeom opened his mouth to reply. “Jinyoung-hyung said we had to stay in your room and out of his way.”

“Since when’ve you ever listened to Jinyoungie?” Mark swivelled around in his chair as his computer loaded up, white light flooding from the screen. He cast a side glance at Jackson, raising an eyebrow as he shifted awkwardly on the spot. “You gonna sit down?”

“You could watch Black Panther with us,” Bambam brightened, making space on the bed by shoving Yugyeom aside. “It’s okay if you’ve seen it before. You can just watch it again.”

“If Jackson-hyung watches with us then that means we can stay in your room,” Yugyeom made eyes at Mark. “Right, hyung?”

“Whatever,” Mark conceded, easy when Jackson gave him a nod. He put his headphones on, returning to the computer when it made a noise. “I’m gonna play Overwatch, then. Don’t bother me.”

“Okay,” Bambam said happily, sharing the covers when Jackson climbed onto the bed beside him. Surprisingly, he didn’t even feel weird, sitting down next to two strangers. They seemed nice enough, genuine and almost childlike, and Jackson already had the strangest urge of wanting to protect them from the world. “Are you a _friend_ of Mark-hyung’s?”

“Sure,” Jackson said, pretending that he didn’t notice the implications behind how Bambam had said ‘friend’. Maybe, he thought, but not yet. “We’re friends. He skateboarded into me in first year and had to get stitches in his knee afterwards. I took him to the ER and for some reason, we kept in contact.”

“Oh, you’re _that_ guy. Yeah, Mark-hyung’s weird like that,” Yugyeom agreed, his chin on Bambam’s shoulder. “He lets us hang around ‘cause Bambam’s known him since they were kids.”

“Oh,” Jackson said. He hadn’t known that. “That’s cool.”

“Come on,” Bambam said, impatiently, bringing the laptop back up on his stomach and sinking further down the headboard. He tugged the earphones out and tossed them halfway down the bed. “Let’s watch the movie. We were already halfway through, but I started it over for you, hyung.”

“ _No_ ,” Yugyeom wailed, but Bambam quickly shushed him.

Jackson smiled, letting himself relax as Bambam’s head found his shoulder and the opening credits came up on the screen, Mark at his computer clicking away at the mouse. He was a people person, but still. He hadn’t expected to feel quite so at home watching Black Panther in Mark and Jaebum’s apartment with two kids he’d just met, but it felt nice — better, he realised, than if he’d opted to go home by himself.

—

“Oh, hyung,” Bambam said, after a little while. The movie had been over for nearly half an hour already, but the three of them had entertained themselves in that time by watching the weirdest ASMRs they could find, Mark still preoccupied at the computer. “I think I burned the eggnog earlier.”

Jackson hesitated. “I don’t think eggnog is meant to be cooked,” he said. “Also, are you even of age?”

Bambam’s mouth dropped open. “I’m _nineteen_ ,” he sniffed, trying to pinch Jackson underneath the covers. “And I know eggnog isn’t meant to be cooked. I know that _now_ ,” he added, still looking snooty. “Jinyoung-hyung gave me hell for it.”

“It’s ‘cause we used all the eggs,” Yugyeom looked mournful, and Bambam nodded. “And then it turned out all egg-y. And _gross_ — but it’s fine. I texted Youngjae just now and he said he’d pick some up on the way.”

“Oh, good,” Jackson said. “Yoo Youngjae?”

“No,” Yugyeom got out his phone, scrolling for a second before shoving it in Jackson’s face. “Choi Youngjae. He’s the kid that Jaebum will get custody over if he and Mark move out and choose not to live together anymore — ”

“ — which would never happen,” Bambam filled in, trying to get a look at Yugyeom’s phone, too. “The fuck? Why the fedora photo?”

“He looks good,” Yugyeom huffed. Jackson peered at the boy on the screen, whose smile was big and bright. He hadn’t even noticed the fedora on his head. “Who died and made you fashion police?”

“No one had to die for me to already be the fashion police,” Bambam retorted, but he still looked disappointed, sulking in on himself. “ _I_ wanted to make the eggnog,” he said, lower lip jutting out in a pout. “It was going to be _great_. Nichkhun-hyung taught me.”

“He’ll show you again when he gets back,” Yugyeom appeased, and Bambam nodded. Yugyeom looked at Jackson and explained, “Nichkhun-hyung’s from Thailand, too. He’s celebrating Christmas there this year.”

“Why didn’t you go back?” Jackson asked Bambam, who shrugged simply.

“My flight got cancelled this morning.”

Jackson sat up straight. “So did mine,” he felt Bambam give his arm a comforting squeeze at that. “And Mark’s, too. You’re not sad?”

“My family’s Buddhist,” he explained. “Christmas isn’t a very festive time. I can see them during the new year, anyway.”

“You’re lucky,” Jackson told him, trying not to sound too miserable. Bambam must’ve sensed it anyway, because he squeezed his arm again and Jackson offered a wobbly smile in return. Bambam smiled back, and Yugyeom too, and Christmas, Jackson thought, was maybe, _maybe_ , salvageable after all.

—

At around 10 o’clock, which was apparently the time that they all had dinner, Jinyoung knocked on the door and stuck his head in, told them in low monotone that he’d called for pizza and to come eat before Jaebum demolished the entire order. “I didn’t know what to get you,” Jinyoung told him, when the kids rushed ahead and Mark was in the bathroom. “So I got, like, almost one of everything.”

“What?” Jackson laughed, didn’t know if Jinyoung was joking or not. “You’re kidding.”

“Nah,” Jinyoung flapped a hand as if it were no big deal. “Jaebum-hyung’s rich, and eats with an appetite of a small army. And I realised,” Jinyoung stopped in his tracks in the middle of the hallway, so Jackson instinctively stopped too. “We never really got introduced, did we? I’m Jinyoung.”

“I know,” Jackson said, before he could rein himself in. He felt himself flush, knew he was red in the ears already, and fumbled. “I mean — “

“Oh?” Jinyoung didn’t seem bothered, just curious. “Have we met before?”

“Kind of. I’m close with Hyunwoo,” he told Jinyoung, whose expression faltered for a split-second before smoothing over again, but Jackson still caught it. “Yeah. I got him in the divorce settlement, but Suji-yah and I still get on, ya’know? We just — run different crowds now, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung said, softly, and there wasn’t a need for any elaboration on that. Jackson swore he had never seen Hyunwoo quite as miserable as he had been the week after he and Suji broke up. Jinyoung’s eyes were clouded as if he were stuck in the past, too, and tentatively, Jackson touched his arm, tried to seem comforting without coming off wrong, and Jinyoung shook his head, offered a grateful half-smile in return. “I hope Hyunwoo-ssi is okay these days,” he said simply, and then, “But I’m glad we finally got to meet. I’ve already heard good things about you from hyung.”

Jackson could feel himself getting redder at that. “Oh, yeah,” he mumbled. “Mark-hyung’s nice. He skateboarded into me during first year, and — “

“No,” Jinyoung cut in, mouth twitching. “I didn’t mean Mark-hyung. I meant _Jaebum_.”

“Shit, really?” Jackson blurted out, couldn’t seem to filter himself with how easy it was to talk to Jinyoung. “I’d always just assumed that Jaebum-hyung hated me.”

“It’s a common misconception with Jaebum,” Jinyoung agreed. “The resting bitch face doesn’t quite help, does it?”

“I suppose not,” Jackson admitted, relieved when Jinyoung slanted a glance at him and they both burst into laughter.

“Okay,” Jinyoung said, when Mark appeared from the bathroom and they were forced to calm down, pretending not to see when he shot them strange, curious looks. Jinyoung slipped an arm through Jackson’s and tugged him towards the living room with Mark right behind them. “I’m hungry. Let’s see if they left us anything to eat.”

—

All the pizza boxes were already strewn across the floor and open by the time they went back out into the living room to join Jaebum and the kids, and for the first time that day, Jackson felt a little overwhelmed as they all fell into a routine of some sort, Jinyoung immediately curling up beside Jaebum by the couch, Yugyeom and Bambam giggling at each other and speaking half-sentences before dissolving into more laughter.

Jackson hovered unsurely by the door, but it didn’t take Mark long to notice this and look up from where he was piling pizza slices onto his plate. He gestured with a hand for Jackson to come sit down beside him. “Don’t get shy now,” Mark told him, teasing, friendly.

“I’m okay,” Jackson promised, feeling warm. Mark being close made things a lot better, and apparently, where Mark was, Jinyoung was.

Jackson was glad about this too, as for some reason he couldn’t really work out yet, he liked Jinyoung an awful lot. Jinyoung did seem to be a little strange around him though, and Jackson thought that might have something to do with how he kept slinging an easy arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders, or touching his elbow to get his attention, which, was fair enough. He should stop, he knew, but he felt strangely comfortable around Jinyoung (even though Jaebum kept sending him sharp, irritated looks for it) and as Jinyoung started leaning back into him when he laughed, and sat closer to him as they ate, it made him feel better, somehow.

Jackson didn't know. After his flight had been cancelled that morning he had felt utterly devastated, so the bright, warm feeling in his chest was really, really appreciated.

Just after dinner, he excused himself to go to the bathroom as Jinyoung and Yugyeom started to bicker over who it was that kept leaving the living room lights on at night, Bambam sitting suspiciously quiet as they argued, and Jackson carefully took Mark’s arm off from around his shoulders and slipped away down the hall.

He nearly ran right into Jaebum on his way out of the bathroom, breath hitching as Jaebum herded him right back in and shut the door behind them. “Okay,” Jaebum said, scowling with a finger stabbing into Jackson’s chest. “What’s going on here, man?”

“What?” Jackson said, blinking, heart still beating so fast that he swore Jaebum could feel it. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Alright,” Jaebum narrowed his eyes. “Only Jinyoungie was all nervous and shit about meeting you, and then I told him you were chill, and now the two of you are acting as if you were born joint at the fucking hip, or something.”

It did not immediately occur to Jackson that Jaebum could possibly be jealous. He just stared at him, still lost, and asked “Why was Jinyoung nervous?”

Jaebum looked frustrated, like that wasn’t what he wanted to hear at all. “I don’t know,” he said. “Something about you being Hyunwoo’s friend and him and Hyunwoo not being friends anymore and the whole Hyunwoo-Suji thing. I guess he was worried that you’d hold a grudge on behalf of Hyunwoo ‘cause he’s Suji’s best friend.”

“Why would I hold a grudge against him for that?” Jackson frowned. “I like Jinyoung! Jinyoung’s awesome!”

“Yeah, see, now you’re being weird again,” Jaebum clenched his teeth, chin jutting out funnily, and if it were any other situation, Jackson would’ve probably teased him on it. Except Jaebum had a very, very dangerous look in his eye right now, so Jackson kept his mouth smartly shut. “You’re acting like you have a crush on Jinyoungie, and I just — I don’t — “

“Hyung,” Jackson cut in, baffled. “I don’t have a crush on your — “ _Boyfriend_. “ — Jinyoung.”

Jaebum’s expression flickered, forehead creasing. “Are you sure?” he demanded, but he let his hand fall to his side. “I wouldn’t blame you, but — “

“Dude,” Jackson said, amused now. “I really don’t have a crush on Jinyoung.”

Jaebum folded his lips, but Jackson could still tell that he was trying hard not to smile. “Okay,” he breathed out, the stiff line of his shoulders relaxing. Suddenly, he looked very sheepish. “You won’t bring this conversation up with Jinyoungie, will you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jackson started, finding it hard not to laugh as Jaebum’s eyes widened. He shook his head, continued and said, “I’m just kidding, hyung. Your secret’s safe with me,” and Jaebum nodded, smiled for the first time.

“I’m glad you like him then,” he said thoughtfully, and then more to himself, more quietly, “we all do.”

—

Coming back into the living room, Jinyoung and Yugyeom were no longer bickering, but Yugyeom and Bambam were instead curled up together on the couch and speaking into a phone, Mark sitting on the floor with Jinyoung’s head in his lap. Yugyeom looked up at Jaebum and Jackson’s approach and grinned, holding out the phone to Jaebum. “It’s Youngjae,” he said, and Jackson slipped away from Jaebum’s side as he took the call, feeling a little conscious of Jaebum’s eyes on his back but heading over to Jinyoung and Mark anyway.

“That was an extended toilet break,” he said, collapsing onto the floor beside Mark, grateful to lean into him, to crowd in close.

Mark laughed, a sharp thing. “Let me guess,” he said. “Jaebum warned you off from his Jinyoungie here.”

Jinyoung peeked open one eye, lower lip jutted out in a pout. “Hey,” he said, edging on a whine. “I’m not _his_ Jinyoungie. And it’s not like I _ask_ hyung to do it. I just hope he wasn’t too aggressive with you, Seun-ah.”

“He was fine,” Jackson promised, watching as Mark carded his fingers through Jinyoung’s hair again and again. He hadn’t realised how close and comfortable they all seemed to be with each other. “I guess he’s just a bit protective, that’s all.”

“Don’t,” Mark said, and Jackson almost thought he’d said something wrong until he saw the look in Mark’s eyes, mischievous if anything. “You’re only building on Jinyoung’s _huge_ ego by talking about how _jealous_ Jaebum gets over him. He secretly fucking likes it, I swear.”

“I gotta know he’s into me somehow,” Jinyoung protested, though he was smirking nonetheless. He stared up at Jackson, suddenly sympathetic. “I heard your flight got cancelled this morning. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Oh,” Jackson said, and he still felt a little hollow at the reminder that he wouldn’t be seeing his family for Christmas, but it wasn’t as bad — not when Mark was sitting so close that their shoulders kept brushing. “It’s okay. At least I’m not at home by myself sulking like I originally planned.”

“I get it,” Jinyoung agreed. “My flight got cancelled, too. I was meant to be in Japan this year with my family.”

“His older sisters insisted on Christmas at Hogwarts,” Jaebum added, coming to sit down by Jinyoung’s feet. Jackson looked over at where Yugyeom and Bambam were still on the couch, now sharing the phone between them as they played PUBG together. “Youngjae’s coming up now,” Jaebum said, and Jinyoung made a happy noise. “His dad kept him at the shop late today.”

“Youngjae’s family owns a music store,” Mark explained, when Jackson opened his mouth to ask. “He’s like Korean Beethoven — he’s been playing piano since he could walk, I’m pretty sure.”

Just then, the door sounded as somebody keyed in the code-lock, and a bubbly voice called, “Hello?” Yugyeom grinned, excited, and rushed out of the room, and when he came back in, he had an arm around who Jackson assumed to be Youngjae, a smiley boy whose presence seemed to fill up the entire space in an instant. “I bought the eggnog. And a fuckton of alcohol,” he announced, and then his eyes landed on Jackson. “Oh, hey, you’re a hyung, right? Merry Christmas, man!”

“Merry Christmas,” Jackson returned, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m Jackson.”

“Youngjae,” he said, and Jackson noticed now that he had a bit of a lisp. He tried hard not to find it adorable — that and the fact that the others seemed to gravitate towards Youngjae almost naturally. “Are you staying for our Christmas party tomorrow?”  

Jackson hadn’t even known that there would be a Christmas party. “Uh, I don’t know,” he started, not wanting to intrude.

“What?” Bambam looked up from the phone for the first time, already sounding disappointed. “Hyung, you _have_ to stay.”

“Yeah, you have to stay,” Yugyeom insisted, back on the couch beside Bambam, his long legs stretched out across the length of the couch. Youngjae went to sit down too, but opted to just collapse atop Yugyeom’s shins instead of moving them, his plastic bags left on the floor. “Didn’t hyung tell you about it?” Yugyeom turned his glare onto Mark, who raised his hands.

“I definitely mentioned it to you,” Mark told him. “But it doesn’t matter if you forgot. You can stay — if you want,” he added, hastily. “It’s tomorrow night, so you can sleep over here and just wait it out with us.”

Jackson hesitated. “I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“Jaebum-hyung can lend you some,” Jinyoung said, and with Mark still combing a hand through his hair, he looked more like a satisfied cat than anything. “You’re around the same size, I’m sure.”

“It’s cool,” Jaebum said, when Jackson shot him a questioning look. “My clothes can fit short people, too.”

“‘cause you _are_ short,” Yugyeom snickered, and then yelped as Jaebum immediately lunged for him with a fist.

“You’ll stay, won’t you?”  Mark said, touching a hand to the inside of Jackson's wrist to get his attention again, and Jackson saw how hopeful he was, his eyes round, bright, and he nodded, almost absentmindedly, more glad than he could express that they wanted him there — that _Mark_ wanted him there.

He liked these boys so much already, to his own surprise, liked the way they talked, the way they made sure to look after each other and after him, too, and he half-wondered where they had been all his life, or at least where they’d been during the first two years of Uni, but decided that he was here now anyway, and there was no point thinking about it when they were all staring at him, expectant.

“I’ll stay,” Jackson said, feeling grateful, warm inside when Mark smiled at him, and Jackson felt a sudden surge of confidence go through him, shyly slipped his fingers between the spaces of Mark’s free hand and squeezed, relieved when his smile only seemed to tug wider at that. "Merry Christmas, hyung."

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely got out of hand and might not have even been what you wanted, but I really ran away with the AU part of the prompt and stuck the seven of them in university and hinted at all their messy out-of-context backstories. Nonetheless, I hope you liked it, Ally, and you, readers!!! A uni-fic gift from me to you!!!!!
> 
> Merry Christmas from a non-celebrator ♡ All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.


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